There came a day when Magda was ready to stand in front of the infirmary and shout at the top of her voice, “People, don’t let them deceive you. You are on the way to die in the gas chambers!”
That day a transport arrived in the late afternoon. We heard the noise of the train and the whistles of the SS men. We closed the gate, but through a crack we watched what was happening on the ramp. We had become accustomed to watching the goings on, because the trains stopped in front of the infirmary. It was a hot, stuffy summer day. A thick stench hung in the air. The people were leaving the wagons. Mengele, as usual, was performing the selections. Out of one of the wagons came a group of about a hundred rabbis. They were all dressed in long, black, satin coats and black hats, and some of them were even wearing fur caps in spite of the intense heat. All of them were elderly and they all had long, white beards. Where did they get them all? How did they manage to round up that many rabbis in a single transport? Since the train came from Hungary, these must have been Hungarian rabbis.
Mengele shunted them off to the side. We guessed instantly that they were trying to figure out something special for them. Between the tracks and the infirmary was an empty wasteland full of holes and craters. This barren landscape was dotted with stones, refuse, wires, broken desks. Everything was flung there helter skelter. The SS men herded the rabbis into this barren area. They were squeezed closely together, fearful and troubled. We could not hear Mengele’s orders, but we saw the tightly packed rabbis scatter, forming a huge circle that started moving on the uneven terrain in some sort of a macabre dance. Some of them tripped and fell, breaking the rhythm of the other dancing rabbis. Then you could hear the hum of the whip, and one of the old men would get to his feet and resume dancing.
Apparently Mengele issued a new command, because they now lifted their eyes and arms to heaven. They kept on dancing. Mengele must have demanded a new Jewish dance. They shrugged their shoulders as though demanding an answer of the invisible God who, in spite of the fact that they had served him so loyally, had now abandoned them.
“Singen!” we heard Mengele scream.
Suddenly a beautiful melody swelled through the camp, a hymn to the Lord. It was the Kol Nidrei prayer, which is sung by Jews in the synagogue on the evening preceding Yom Kippur. They circled round the barren wasteland, singing their plaintive, yearning melody to God. Now they were no longer singing in obedience to Mengele’s orders. They now chanted their defiance before the SS men who were herding their bodies to the gas chambers. In spite of their degradation and suffering they still believed in the mission of the Jewish people. Disappearing behind the gates of the gas chambers they cried out,
“Hear, oh, Israel. God is with us. God is One.”
Near the trains, thousands of people who had come with the rabbis looked on fearfully and passively. Then, little Magda, a girl of eighteen, bolted to the gate of the infirmary and started to open it.
“What are you doing? Do you want them to shoot us?” we yelled excitedly.
“I’m going outside by myself to tell these people that they’re going to the gas chambers, just like the rabbis. Let them yell. Let the Germans chase them. Let them die while they are running,” Magda shouted.
“But those people won’t believe your words. The SS men will shoot you before the people can get the information. They won’t believe you because they want to live. Your sacrifice will be useless.”
We stood near the gate, keeping a tight hold on Magda, that light-haired maiden with the face of the Madonna. After all, was it fair to take all hope from those people for the short time that divided them from death? One was speaking of an honorable death. But was death so dishonorable in this situation in which a fight was impossible? That is how we thought at the time. What is the case, really? It is hard to find the right answer.